Notes About The Poem

Water, Water

Water     /     Water
              New Hamburg, Ontario         Rubkuai village, South Sudan


                                   locals rise          locals starve 
       with the river, heed warnings          where once there was a river, 
                to keep from its banks           travel along arid banks

                 thirty thousand gallons          a tanker arrives with a few gallons
                         of unwanted rain          rain is worth all limbs
                                      burdens          how burdened the village —
                                storm drains          the drought drains life from fields

    this summer, filled sport bottles          this summer 
                 will be abandoned near         will crust tongues
                                 splash pads,         as the dying
         where saturated children riot         tend to the dead
                 in mist & spray, soak in         inconsolable mothers silently
                  the never-ending fount         riot [eyes too dry to mist
                        until fingers prune,         can still spray bullets
                                    until thirst          or thirst for just one more look
                     sends them skipping          as irises prune in the sun]

                    cars gleam and grass          grass is a memory
                         springs underfoot;         & graves spring up underfoot
                       the bridge is power-         like emaciated bridges 
   washed, as though the downpour          nothing stops the downpour 
                              hadn’t flooded          of diarrhea — the filth binds   
                                spider’s webs         cholera’s web

         people shower, run half-filled           people kneel for droplets
    dishwashers & laundry machines,          the desert launders
                           a kettle screams           the jawbone
                                 for someone,          of the newest ghost who still
                             anyone to listen          listens, waits, for anyone
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Duet Avatar
August 23, 2017 at 10:41 PM
Impressive poem with an impact. Love the comparisons.
De Beaulieu Avatar
May 28, 2017 at 9:00 PM
Yes this is true of wter in those poor countries that have very little of it. Some people waste water that makes me scream.
Breedt Avatar
May 25, 2017 at 1:51 AM
Hi Cindi, A fantastic write, a fantastic plight!. Its terrible how people just look the other way. You did your job to highlight this condition but alas, where is it? People arent even aware that this is happening. Lets ring those bells.
Hamilton Avatar
May 23, 2017 at 10:05 AM
Graves spring up underfoot, like emaciated bridges outstanding imagery Cyndi! Too bad it's real life! I did mission work in Ecaudor during a cholera outbreak in 1990, it's true diarrhea is the killer. Thanks for your moving depiction of today's reality. Curiously, I wrote a piece about Syria, and mentioned in my comments, funny cat videos, get more attention. Different story same indignation!
Yvonne Avatar
May 17, 2017 at 5:22 AM
Then and Now an artistic, intelligent, profound way to make people consider the existing truth. Too many are entombed in the strands of their denial. A Fav.
Sacks Avatar
May 5, 2017 at 4:18 AM
"Man's inhumanity to man".....oh Cyndi, you have captured the heartbreaking and horrific reality of life in a war-torn country decimated by drought. Your poem is beautifully crafted to deliver a powerful message - a shocking portrait of human suffering. Very well done, Cyndi, for highlighting such a painful tragedy.
Macmillan Avatar
May 5, 2017 at 7:58 AM
Thank YOU, Sheila. Truthfully, I feel so helpless, right now. I'm surrounded by so many people who either do not know about the famine and drought, or if they know they have made a conscious decision to tune out what is happening. Viral dog videos get more attention than babies dying of starvation. It's sickening to me. I know I'm not alone in my empathy...
Manassian Avatar
May 5, 2017 at 2:43 AM
Cyndi...what a powerful poem. I love the layout. I love how you echo what's in the fist column in the second...but with that punch to the gut. So sad...So very sad. I liked what you did with the "pruning"....one to show the excess, one to show the lack. Superb write. The picture you used for the write is incredible. There is Africa...caked in drought. There is a place for photos in poetry...BTW...thanks for your visit to my blog about my uncle. Much appreciated. I did write a response to you.
Macmillan Avatar
May 5, 2017 at 8:06 AM
:( I'd post a hundred photos if it motivated someone to either give to a charity or write to their leaders! This famine should be the world's priority! 20. Million. People. Dying while the Western world spends $5 on a coffee drink
Macmillan Avatar
May 5, 2017 at 8:04 AM
Thanks, Eileen. We're in the midst of a famine that has been the worst since WWII. I know that you, too, are a sensitive soul and that what is happening around the world breaks your heart. I shared this to facebook in an attempt to put more attention on what is happening to millions. I used a photo so it would show up on Facebook--like the photo shows in news articles that I share--but it's didn't show up on the SOUP share?
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